Washed Away Promises
by Loopylou
Summary: When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am' How much pain can one man take? This is a story about Jack's life, his losses and the darkness the lurks inside everyone.
1. Chapter 1

Washed Away Promises 

The true peace of God begins at any spot a thousand miles from the nearest land. Joseph Conrad

Prologue 

He dreamed. He dreamed of open water, of waves that were as dark and cold as the space between the stars. For once, the water was not his friend. It was an enemy, a traitor that he only thought he knew... and suddenly realized that he did not. His mind offered up images of younger times, happier times as he tossed and turned in the cramped bed. He murmured, lifting a hand to ward off the images, but still they came.

_It was a glorious English summer day. The sun glowed overhead like a newly shined copper kettle. The sky was that endless blue you could lose yourself in. A few fluffy white clouds dotted it here and there, the sunlight painting them brilliantly white. _

_He sat in the shade of a tree, legs outstretched, ankles crossed and watched his daughter play with his wife. Both had curly blonde hair. His daughter wore a light green dress, his wife in yellow. The sun caught them, painting them with streaks of gold under that endless sky. A butterfly danced past his face, and he watched it with lazy eyes until it landed on a nearby rose. _

_This was his family's last day in England. They were setting sail for Port Royal in the morrow. He was looking forward to the reaching Port Royal. The adventurer in him yearned to see new places. His daughter broke him from his thoughts as she threw herself onto his lap. Her small starfish hands clutched at the ivory linen shirt he wore. _

"_What ya doing, Lottie?" he asked. The toddler settled herself on his outstretched legs, gazing at him with huge brown eyes. _

Jack woke suddenly, dark eyes darting around the gloom of his cabin. He lit the candle next to the bed. Cold sweat covered him and plastered his hair to his head. He brought his hands to his face, ignoring how much they were shaking.

_It was just a dream..._ he told himself, _just a horrible dream..._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

_When it is dark enough, you can see the stars. Ralph Waldo Emerson_

The Black Pearl's stout wooden deck moved softly under his feet as he stood at the wheel. On the horizon, storm clouds boiled, hanging dark and menacing over the water. The sun lay behind them, its rays slanting long and low across the water. They had no choice but to sail through it. The black sails snapped in the uneasy wind. Jack's braids blew about his face. He brushed them away with an impatient hand.

His dark lined eyes were unusually shadowed, and his face was paler than usual. A fine tremor ran through his hands as the gripped the wheel. He hadn't slept well the night before, nor the night before that. He kept dreaming of his other life, as he thought of it. He'd tried chasing the dreams from his mind with a nightcap or ten of rum, but they stayed with him, haunting him as he tried to rest. His eyes felt gritty from lack of proper rest, and he knew himself to be irritable.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he considered the horizon. There was no way they'd make port by nightfall, and he didn't fancy his chances at outrunning the storm. That left him with only one choice.

"Mr Gibbs!" Jack called sharply. For the first time in many minutes, he tore his dark eyes from the equally dark horizon. The pensive look on his face slipped away as Gibbs approached.

The older man hurried to his side. He turned his weathered face to look at the approaching storm. "Rough seas ahead, capt'n,"

Jack frowned a little, tilting his head away from Gibbs "There always it, so it seems." His voice was heavy with things unsaid.

He shivered a little. It was getting cold. Goosebumps rose along his bare arms. The air felt damp, heavy with the weight of the coming storm. He hid a shudder in the chilly air. The wheel under his hand moved slightly, and he automatically corrected it, bringing the ship back onto the true heading. He smoothed his thumb over the worn wood of the wheel. The grain in the wood felt slightly rough under his hand.

"Aye," Gibbs said, "We sailing through it?" The very thought filled his guts with ice. He hated sailing through storms almost as much as he hated facing undead, cursed sailors.

"That we are. See, our destination is on the other side of said storm," he made a sweeping gesture with his hand "and I don't see any ports around here..."

"What is our destination, capt'n?" Gibbs asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He loved Jack like a son, but sometimes wondered if the younger pirate wasn't a few cannon balls short of a battle. Their ideas of good destinations didn't always match.

Jack smiled wickedly. "Ah, our destination..." he paused as thunder boomed overhead. Rain sheeted down, but still the grin stayed on Jack's face. "Our destination, Mr Gibbs, is Port Royal."

Gibbs looked confused "Ah, capt'n?" He had a feeling that the captain wasn't telling him the full story.

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically "We're taking on passengers. Dear Elizabeth and William will be sailing with us on this fair adventure."

Lighting tore the sky apart, and the rain began to fall in earnest. Jack's shirt clung to his slender frame. Thunder rumbled, and the ship shuddered under its assault. The sea turned dark, inky black, perfectly reflecting the colour of the sky above. The rain turned to hail, the tiny pieces of ice pelting the deck like miniature cannon fire from the heavens. Wind tore at the sails, throwing the ship forward through the storm. The wind screamed, an unearthly sound, as it wove around the masts.

"Take cover!" Jack yelled. Below him, the crew scurried about, racing to finish their jobs so they could get out of the stinging hail. Gibbs hurried off. He came back quickly, Jack's coat and hat with him.

"Thanks," Jack said, settling the hat on his head before slipping the coat on. Gibbs nodded, pausing next to Jack as he waited for a command.

"Get yourself inside," Jack said roughly "The Pearl and I'll ride this one out together."

"Aye," Gibbs said, pausing for a few more seconds before his disappeared into the gathering gloom.

In a few moments, Jack was left alone on the deck of his ship, facing the coming storm.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

_Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide, wide sea _**-Samuel Taylor Coleridge**

Sea spray drenched him as he wrestled with the wheel, fighting to keep the ship on the heading. The sea was huge, waves breaking against the Black Pearl like liquid battering rams. It had finally stopped raining, and the huge full moon hung large and low over the water. It spilled brittle light over the ship, and he was glad for it. His lamp had long since gone out, doused by the water.

The deck bucked and writhed under his feet, like some large, mad beast. The wood was wet and slippery. He'd fallen more than once already. Both hands and knees were bruised and sore. Blood seeped for a few cuts and scrapes on his shins. He was cold and exhausted. The salty spray stung his eyes, and he resisted the urge to scrub them with the back of his hand. It wouldn't help. He closed his eyes briefly, thinking lovingly of the bottle of rum in his cabin.

The ship bucked once more, and he clung to the wheel with tired hands as a wave broke over her. It engulfed him and left him fighting for breath. He was still alone on the deck, though he was thinking about rousing the crew. Another wave smashed into the hull, rolling the ship hard on her side. The Pearl groaned, then righted herself. He breathed out a sigh of relief. They'd come very close to capsizing.

He smiled as he realized that the waves were getting smaller.

Riding out the storm by himself had been exhausting. He felt weary, bone tired even as he corrected the ship's course again. The muscles in his back and shoulders ached from the strain. He hooked a loop of rope over the wheel to hold them on course before stepping away from the night cooled wood. They would make it into Port Royal before noon. He couldn't wait; he wanted a warm bed, dry clothes and a bottle of rum or three.

The edges of his world went grey. He made a wild grab for the wheel, and missed, landing in an untidy heap on the deck.

"Oh, bugger," he swore, propping himself up with both arms. "Didn't really mean to do _that._" He slurred, before pushing himself to his feet.

He made his way into the ship, where the rest of the crew were just starting to wake. He found Gibbs bending to tie his bootlaces, and sat on a nearby hammock to wait. It moved gently under him, and he braced his feet on a nearby box.

It was only a few seconds before the older, portly man looked up. "Capt'n..." he said in greeting. "Made it through the storm then, eh?"

Jack tilted his head, resisting the urge to point out that if they hadn't, the crew would be enjoying the hospitality of Davy Jones' Locker. Instead, he smiled. "Don't we always, Mr Gibbs?"

"Aye, capt'n. Seems that way to me," Gibbs agreed, "No matter how rough the sea, we always manage to keep sailing."

"Take her into port Mr Gibbs," Jack said, before turning and starting to walk away. "I'll be in me cabin."

"Aye Capt'n," Gibbs said, as he watched Jack walk away. "I wonder what's vexing yea now," He added under his breath before rousing the rest of the crew. They had a ship to dock.


End file.
